


Miscellaneous Drabbles (2004-present)

by Mireille



Category: Actor RPF, Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Firefly, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Red Dwarf, Smallville, due South
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-06-13
Updated: 2005-10-13
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Various drabbles (and potentially tiny ficlets) in fandoms where I've only written a couple of drabbles ever.Fandom (and pairing, if relevant) in chapter titles.





	1. Dreaming (due South; Fraser/Vecchio)

The dreams were always so vivid: Benny's hands, warm and slightly rough, cupping the side of his face; and his skin, smelling of harsh soap and clean sweat; and his mouth, with the last lingering traces of chamomile from the tea he'd been drinking before Ray had kissed him. 

And then he pulled back a little, his eyes wide and incredibly dark-blue, his breathing harsh and rapid, and he opened his mouth to say something--

But Ray always woke up then and remembered he was still in Las Vegas, in a life that seemed far less real than his dreams.


	2. Dark and Stormy Night (Red Dwarf, gen)

It was a dark and stormy night--well, there wasn't any weather in space, and "night" was whenever Holly said it was, but it was definitely dark. Besides, it was tradition. Terrible crimes were always done on dark and stormy nights; Dave knew that from watching vids.

And from the fuss, at least, this was a terrible crime. You'd think he'd stepped on Rimmer's light bee again, or something.

Of course, to everyone who wasn't Rimmer, destroying most of Rimmer's collection of Hammond organ music was a blessing, not a crime, but he'd always known Rimmer was a smegging lunatic.


	3. dw100: "favorites" (Turlough; gen)

It was rather ridiculous, Turlough thought, the way he and Tegan behaved sometimes, competing for the Doctor's attention like children, each trying to prove that they were their parents' favorite.

Tegan was from Earth, of course, which explained her immaturity. He had no such excuse, so he'd have to be the one to stop. 

But when he got to the console room, Tegan was complaining about the Doctor's choice for their next destination, and the Doctor was looking slightly harried--and Turlough couldn’t help trying to encourage Tegan (rather loudly) to not be quite so provincial, "for the Doctor’s sake."


	4. the Ninth Doctor and Rose, "regeneration" (gen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written well before Nine's actual regeneration, so not canon-compliant.

"I understand having a different face and still being you," Rose said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "That's like plastic surgery, sort of."

"Sort of," the Doctor agreed. "It goes a lot farther than surgery could do, but it's a fair analogy."

"But if you have a different personality, you're a different person." 

"Nah. I'm still the Doctor. Just… different."

She shook her head. "And you might not want some stupid human hanging around the TARDIS afterward." 

"That'll never happen."

"Promise?"

He thought back over the time since he and Susan had left Gallifrey, and grinned. "Trust me."


	5. the Ninth Doctor, on being alone and not being alone

He'd gone back to try one last time to persuade Rose to come along because he'd realized how tired he was of being alone. He hadn't regretted it--well, not often, and not for extended periods of time.

Rose was an excellent traveling companion: curious, eager, and not generally inclined to whine. She was right, as well; seeing the universe was better with two. 

He enjoyed her company; he was getting quite fond of the girl, to be honest.

It didn't change the fact that he was alone in the universe. It just made it a little easier to bear.


	6. Harry Potter, untitled Trio gen

"You're bluffing," Ron said. "She's bluffing," he added, turning to Harry. 

"I am not bluffing, Ron Weasley. Try me," Hermione said, brushing a few blades of dry grass off her robes.

Reluctantly, Ron left off his study of the clouds and sat up, reaching for one of the textbooks piled beside him. "In the year 1263, what wizard.…"

Harry wasn't really paying attention to them. It was spring, and for a few hours he could forget about being the Boy Who Lived, and just be the boy who was sitting with his two best friends, not studying History of Magic.


	7. Argus Filch and the Pillar of Storgé (gen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a "Blame Each Other" challenge run by mctabby on LiveJournal, long ago, and I was assigned "Filch and Mrs. Norris in the Pillar of Storgé." Which meant I had to come up with a ficlet based on a meaningless red-herring of a book title. ;) 
> 
> Which I did, as best I could.

He'd found the pillar several years ago--more than ten, he was sure; Mrs. Norris had only been a kitten then, and she'd fit in his coat pocket. Now he had to hold her--there wasn't room on the small platform for both of them, and she insisted on following him in. She liked to see what was going on. 

And there was a lot to see; the pillar had eyeholes cunningly concealed in the decorative carvings, and, like the rest of the castle, it was built...oddly. He could see most of the public corridors on the second floor from that one location, even through solid stone walls. The Headmaster surely knew about the pillar, and Professor McGonagall might--there wasn't much that got past her--but the students didn't seem to, not even those red-haired Weasley menaces. It was his secret, and it was one of the few advantages he had over the students. 

Until one day when he'd gone to the library to speak to Madam Pince. She wasn't there, and he'd decided to wait. One of the lazy brats had left a book open on the table; he'd glanced at it as he pushed it out of his way. One of the illustrations caught his eye, though, and he picked the book back up. It was his pillar. Not exactly the same; this was apparently a pillar that had been in the Ministry of Magic building back during the 1940's. 

_Pillars of Storgé,_ he read, _were invented in 1927 by Triquinius Storgé, at the request of the Minister of Magic. An existing architectural pillar can be magically modified to serve as a Pillar of Storgé. They permit surveillance of a significant area of a building, and with a simple incantation, a wizard can even move the viewpoint to a different floor altogether...._

Filch scowled, slamming the book shut and startling Mrs. Norris. Yet another thing he was cheated out of. 

After that, he kept an eye on the students the old-fashioned way. The pillar had lost most of its charm.


	8. Doctor Who: Leela & Ace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in a hypothetical "Two Doctors"-type of adventure.

"That is not a weapon," Leela said scornfully, looking at the canister. "How will it help the Doctor?"

Ace grinned. "It's a diversion to give the Professor and your bloke a chance to get away." 

Leela was still doubtful, but she watched as Ace hurled the canister down the corridor. 

Then there was a loud bang and a flash, and her Doctor came running toward them, his scarf and Ace's "Professor" both trailing behind him. 

Leela thought she might have to ask for some of this 'nitro-9' to take with her. It was no Janus thorn, but it might be useful.


	9. Doctor Who: the Master, during part 4 of "Logopolis"

It was almost like old times. 

Granted, in those days, the Doctor hadn't cut quite such a ridiculous figure; the scarf was a touch of whimsy that he hadn't been able to display as openly on Gallifrey. But the working through the night, pushing aside weariness and frustration for the sake of solving a problem together--that was familiar. 

Back then, of course, it hadn't taken the threat of the TCE to get the Doctor to go along with his plans.

Not quite like old times, after all, but it was a small price to pay for the entire universe.


	10. Firefly, Kaylee/Inara

Kaylee prides herself on getting herself presentable pretty darned quick when she wakes up; she's dressed and washed and is dragging her brush through her hair all within a couple of minutes. She likes to think that she looks okay, at least most days, but she doesn't dawdle. She doesn't see the point, really; there are more interesting things to do than stand there looking in a mirror. 

But when Inara's brushing her hair for her, then Kaylee doesn't mind how long it takes. She can close her eyes and feel the gentle tug of the brush as it works through her tangles, the light touch of Inara's fingers against her hair, and she could sit there for a hundred years if she didn't have work to do. It's soothing, in a way--she could probably drift off to sleep like that if she'd let herself--but it's exciting, too, like everywhere Inara touches her has a tiny little electric current running through it. 

Inara's so gentle when she brushes Kaylee's hair--and sometimes wipes a smudge of grease off Kaylee's nose--that Kaylee wonders whether Inara'd be that gentle no matter where she touched Kaylee. She doesn't know if she'll ever find out. It doesn't bother her, what Inara does, but she's not sure Inara would ever be with someone who wasn't a client. Not someone she had to live with, anyway. Things might get too messy--well, look at Inara and the captain, if you wanted messy. Which Kaylee didn't, because she liked it when people were mostly getting along. 

It doesn't bother her that she wants Inara--why should it? Inara's dark and slim, beautiful, intelligent, and cultured, and it's pretty obvious from the way Kaylee reacted when Simon first came on board that she has a type, and that Inara fits it. 

But she's not going to try to move things along any faster, not right now. Right now, she's got maintenance scheduled in the morning, and they have a cargo to deliver, and she's not in any hurry, anyway. She's just going to sit here while Inara brushes her hair, and close her eyes, and daydream.


	11. Smallville, Clark/Lex, S1-ish.

Sometimes, things are so easy with Lex. Sometimes, the door's closed and it's just the two of them, and Clark can forget about everything else. 

It's not perfect, because there are still so many things that he doesn't know. What that look means, the one he catches Lex giving him sometimes. The one that he thinks is Lex looking at him the way Clark looks at Lana. Whether he wants it to mean that. He thinks he does, but he's not sure. 

But eventually, they have to talk, and then he has to lie, and everything starts being hard again.


	12. HP RPF (Rankinstaff)

_What's your favorite color?_  
  
Oh, not that kind of question again. The kind with an easy, boring answer, the kind he got asked at least ten times a week.  
  
He looked over at the bed, where Chris was still asleep, the soft sighing noise he made as he dreamed reminding Sean of the sounds Chris had made last night, right after Sean had used his teeth to tug Chris's boxers down past his hips.   
  
As he turned back to the computer, Sean caught sight of the boxers, lying crumpled on the floor, and grinned as he began to type.   
  
 _Polkadot._


	13. HP RPF (Rankinstaff)

Jamie comes up to him when he's eating lunch. "Are you feeling okay?"  
  
Sean looks up in surprise. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"  
  
"Because it's noon, and you haven't announced that you're straight yet today. I was thinking you might be sick."  
  
"I don't--"  
  
"Yeah, you do. At least ten times a day. More if you and Chris have a scene together."  
  
Almost without realizing it, Sean glances over to where Chris is talking to Gemma. "Well, I am," he says.   
  
"Whatever."  
  
Chris sees him then, and grins, and Sean smiles back. "I am," he repeats, hoping it sounds convincing.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com/)


End file.
